Absconditus
by Tariell
Summary: Absconditus. Hidden. The life of one man is wrapped in mystery. Triumphs, failures, the shadows of memories. A collection of drabbles highlighting the life of Sparda's eldest son.
1. Chapter 1: Touch

**Disclaimer:** _Devil May Cry_ does not belong to me. I am simply borrowing the universe and its characters for a little bit.

**AN: **I say these are drabbles, but they won't be adding up to exactly 100 words. Each installment will be based on a single word from a list I found on livejournal a year or so ago and will focus on Vergil. I hope you enjoy!

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Touch

The command came from the Master. _Break him._ So she set out to do just that. The tortures visited upon his body were of the darkest kind, given without hesitation or restraint. Yet despite the agony, his willpower remained strong, and he only rewarded her efforts with small gasps of pain. And so she turned to tormenting his mind with wounds far more intricate and scarring than those his skin suffered. The screams—hoarse and anguished—now began in earnest. Only when he desperately flinched away at her slightest touch, true terror dark in his eyes, did Trish present the shattered soul of Sparda's once proud son to her Master.


	2. Chapter 2: Smell

**Disclaimer:** _Devil May Cry_ does not belong to me. I am simply borrowing the universe and its characters for a little bit.

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Smell

Even when innocent children—_did he even know what those words meant anymore?_—Vergil despised that vile food his brother adored so much. The grease that fairly dripped from those slices was nothing less than revolting, in his opinion. And of course, his brother always insisted on waving those pieces within an inch of his face, teasing laughter in his eyes at the grimace that appeared on Vergil's face when the smell wafted up to him. No amount of glares and threats could ever get his younger brother to move that disgusting conglomeration away. _But it was infinitely better than the swords they swung at each other now._


	3. Chapter 3: Sight

**Disclaimer:** _Devil May Cry_ does not belong to me. I am simply borrowing the universe and its characters for a little bit.

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Sight

Upon setting eyes on the red-clothed man, Nelo Angelo saw him only as a chance to prove his worth. The Master was insistent on this man's death, and where the other generals failed, Nelo planned to succeed. Surely, if _he_ were to defeat the nuisance, Master would be pleased? With this in mind, he revealed himself to the intruder and everything went perfectly. Like the well-trained warrior he was, Nelo fought until victory was in his grasp. It was only when he caught sight of the amulet, and the blood colored memories within it, that everything went to hell.


	4. Chapter 4: Taste

**Disclaimer:** _Devil May Cry_ does not belong to me. I am simply borrowing the universe and its characters for a little bit.

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Taste

When one spent the majority of one's time ripping the life from others, it was only expected the job would be messy. No amount of skill could keep one clear of all the gore. At times, if Vergil's care slipped, the blood of his enemies ended up splattered across his cold face, the dark liquid tasting metallic on his tongue. His demon half rejoiced at the flavor—drank it in and demanded more. It was an insatiable, gnawing hunger, yet the feeling never lasted. No matter how much the devil enjoyed it, his long-buried human soul forced him to spit it out each and every time.


	5. Chapter 5: Sound

**Disclaimer:** _Devil May Cry_ does not belong to me. I am simply borrowing the universe and its characters for a little bit.

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Sound

The rain hitting their blades and the stone underneath. Two pairs of booted feet slamming against the ground. The metallic clang of Yamato and Rebellion meeting between them. They were the sounds of two brothers engaged in a battle only one would win. The sickening squelch of Yamato's blade twisting in Dante's body seemed louder than all else around them. At the sound of his brother hitting the ground, a smirk appeared on Vergil's face. The small part left in him that screamed against the utter wrongness of it was quickly snuffed out.


	6. Chapter 6: Earth

**Disclaimer:** _Devil May Cry_ does not belong to me. I am simply borrowing the universe and its characters for a little bit.

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Earth

Her grave did not stand out from the others. The headstone was simple, with only her name and the years she lived engraved on it. No flowers decorated the area, giving life to this spot that belonged to the dead. To avoid prying eyes, her oldest son only visited at night, leaping the fence and easily finding her resting place despite its normalcy. Kneeling beside her, his gloved hand rested on the earth covering her final resting place and his eyes closed, remembering her before that horrible night, before the dirt and rocks became her home.


	7. Chapter 7: Air

**Disclaimer:** _Devil May Cry_ does not belong to me. I am simply borrowing the universe and its characters for a little bit.

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Air

The world appears different through the eyes of a child, as if a gilded veil covers every face, action, and thought. The sky always seems brighter and the wind brushing against innocent cheeks always cleaner. No one can _really_ cause loved ones permanent harm. Everyone knows bad things—betrayal, deception, death—only happen to other families. The boogeyman in the closet may or may not be real, but parents still always succeed in chasing the monster away. And so the two brothers continued their harmless play, the free air rushing through their lungs and unaware of the chains that would someday bind them.


End file.
